


Unwell

by ChestnutPatronus14



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Hulkeye - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Slash, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-03
Updated: 2012-07-03
Packaged: 2017-11-09 02:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChestnutPatronus14/pseuds/ChestnutPatronus14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there's one that Bruce kept to himself it was the fear of his own mind. No one could possibly understand the fear he has of losing control, no one except Agent Clint Barton. With his help Bruce starts to realize that there is no reason for him to be solitary, and that he can be apart of the team, make friends, and even develop a relationship with a certain archer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unwell

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing for The Avengers, but I do plan to write more for them. I had a blast writing this fanfic, which is probably why it is as long as it is. Not entirely sure how many parts it will take for me to be completely satisfied that it has a definite ending. But guess we'll just have to wait and see!

Bruce Banner could not sleep, too much was going on within his mind.  New ideas that he had to share, if only Mr. Stark was actually awake, but that was his curse, to be lab partners with someone who apparently could fall asleep just about anywhere. 

It was not something he was used to in the least, having someone to work with let alone being apart of the team of the, to quote Commander Fury, ‘Earth’s mightiest heroes.’  By nature Bruce was a loner, his current living situation was something that went directly against that.  He was not entirely sure he liked it.

What if he lost control again?  What if he destroyed the tower Mr. Stark had so generously let them all live in? 

What if he killed his new…friends?  Could he call his teammates that?  Were they actual genuine friends, or just the people he lived with?  It was so bloody new to him.  He had friends before the accident but it had been so long…

He had not had anyone close to him in a long time.

Yet once again he found himself wandering the now familiar halls of Stark’s tower, past the doors behind which his teammates were off in dreamland, sleeping the night away.  Eventually, he would find sleep, at some point probably in the early morning and wake in time to see Barton and Rogers leave for training.  Then he’d be in the lab, leaving only for meals, which he ate for the most part in silence. 

The others would invite him to go out with them, hang out, watch a film, but he never went with them.  Maybe he was just an acquaintance, a friend would actually go out and do things with his friends.  He had good reason to stay alone, he had to remain focused or he’d lose control.

Bruce did not want that to happen, in fact it was the very last thing he wanted to have happen.  Everyone would be at risk.  Everyone could die.

Angry, he had to stay angry, and calm enough to remain in control.  Cautious to make sure he did not let his control slip enough to let the big guy out.  A place between rage and serenity.  It took every ounce of his focus to remain in a place where if he had to the other guy could come out, but left to his own devices the other guy would remain locked up inside.

He was alone, the fear of losing control drove him completely away from the others, prevented him from truly being apart of the group, a part of the team.  Bruce had good reason though did he not?  He knew of the damage he had caused, the people he had harmed the last time he had been in the city. 

Could the rest of the team say that they had been a force of destruction?

Probably…Rogers had been in the army.  Stark had, at one point, developed weapons of war.  Barton was an assassin, as was Natasha.  And Thor was a demi-god who, according to the personal files, was the reason why a small town was nearly demolished.  Was he all that different from them?

Yes.  That was the short answer.  He was different.  He did not want to be ‘The Hulk’ as he had been named.  He wanted the other guy gone.  He really just wanted to be normal despite all the good he had been doing as apart of the Avengers.

Oh but he did wish he could be closer to them without putting them all at risk.  He would not be able to live with himself if something happened to them, he would return back into hiding. No one at S.H.I.E.L.D trusted him; after all they had built a cage just in case.

He needed sleep, had to sleep, but there was something about sleep he did fear.  He was at his most vulnerable when he was asleep.  There was nothing to keep the big guy from coming out and taking control of the body they shared.  Between that fear, and the nightmares that would sometimes plague his sleep, it was hard to find a reason why he should sleep besides needing it for survival.  So when Bruce would sleep, it was a light sleep, waking up at the slightest bit of noise. 

With the thought of sleep in mind, he had started to make his way back towards his room, but something caught his attention. A sound coming from the floor below.  Something was making a sound loud enough for him to hear through the floor.  A dull thud.  Systematic, continual, repetitive. He was not the only one awake that night. 

The slightest bit of curiosity drove him towards the entrance to the training area, an entire floor in the tower.  A huge room divided up with obstacles, weapons, and targets.  It did not take him long to locate the source of the thudding.  A twang, a thud.  His eyes fell on the skilled archer, Agent Barton.  Never before had he seen him awake at that late hour while the rest of the team slept.

“No one is suppose to be in here,” Bruce said in what he hoped was a calm voice, and not one that betrayed his state of almost near exhaustion.  It wasn’t that they could not be in there, it was just one of the rules JARVIS had set with regards to the room.  Bruce at least tried to respect those rules, not wanting to get on JARVIS’s bad side.

The man’s form went rigid; the slightest movement of his head as he glanced back over his shoulder, before he let loose the arrow, sending it flying directly into the center of the target.  “Sorry doctor did not think it would matter as the only way I could get hurt is if I was careless.”  The archer turned his gaze back to the target, and, in one smooth swift movement, sent another arrow into the target.  “But if you insist on staying just stay away from the range.”

“Why are you here this late?” he asked, trying to keep his emotions back in check.  There was something about being alone with one of the others that sent him right on edge.

“Why are you here this late?” Barton countered, an annoyed tone in his voice, gaze still fixed on the target.  “Shouldn’t you be asleep too Dr. Banner?”

“I have my reasons for being awake.”

“So do I.”

The soft thrumming of the bowstring only interrupted the silence that fell between the two of them and the thud as the arrow met the target.  “Then why are you awake Agent Barton?”

A pause, and Bruce looked at the other man over the top of his glasses, watching as Barton lowered the bow and arrow.  “I was asleep, woke up and now I’m wide awake.  Simple as that.”  The archer for the first time turned to look at the doctor.  “Quid pro quo doctor.”

Bruce closed his eyes, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, shaking his head slightly.  Best to give the simple answer.  “I don’t want to dream.”  He paused watching the other man shift his stance to a more relaxed pose.  “I don’t want to hear the screams.”

The second the words left his mouth, Bruce instantly cursed himself.  That was too personal.

“I’ve read up on you Banner.  You nearly destroyed Harlem; you lose control and put others in risk.  It is why you secluded yourself away from society, decided to take up helping people. You wake up to the sound of the screams, the screams of those who hurt in your rage.  Tell me Dr. Banner, how did that work for you?  Did you succeed?  Or did it backfire in your face like how the serum did?”

“I was fine till the government decided to come find me, and the only reason why I was in New York was because someone told me they had a cure.  The control I have is something that has taken me years to achieve.”  Bruce folded his arms over his chest, working to maintain his serene state of mind, working to maintain control.  “Quid pro quo.  What woke you up?”

That threw Barton off, the sudden shock and surprise that his tactic to put the good doctor off guard had failed so beautifully showed in his eyes.  He turned his head away going to put the bow and quiver away.  “Not something someone like you would-” Barton stopped, hand resting on the bow.  “No you’re probably the only person who would understand.”

Bruce stared at him; his curiosity peaked, wondering what exactly he was talking about.  “You have me at a disadvantage.” 

Barton chuckled softly and shrugged his shoulders.  “Suppose I do.  But then again, I suppose we both have something in common, perhaps point that out would help you see my point better.”  The archer tapped his temple.  “We’ve both lost control of our minds.”

And all the puzzle pieces clicked into place.  Agent Clint Barton, the pawn of Loki.  How could he have forgotten that?  The Trickster had taken control of the man’s mind and made him his slave.  But at the very least...  “You remember what you’ve done.  I can’t.”

“You really think that that makes it any easier?  I killed people I worked with, fellow agents.  I didn’t have a choice.  You did this to yourself.”

“And I live with it every day.  I wake up to the sounds of people screaming, fires burning, the sound of crumbling buildings and sirens.  Your bosses wanted to kill me.  They built a cage for me that would essentially end my existence.”  His heart rate was increasing, anger and tension building up in his body.  “Remembering?  I’d give anything to do that, but you know what’s worse?  Being told what you did.  Being hated because you have no control and it is your own fault that you have something so strong and powerful deep inside.”

Bruce turned his back to the archer, making for the door.  “You said you wanted to talk, if you truly do I’ll be in my lab.  I won’t be sleeping tonight.  If I do you all might wake up to the other guy.”  His hand was on the door when he felt the pressure of Barton’s hand on his shoulder.  “What…”

“I want to talk…” Clint was close to him, so very close to him.  Someone he could actually relate to… 

“Then follow me.”  He left the training area making his way to the research and development floor that normally only he and Stark were in.  It was heavily guarded, for security reasons of course. 

“This place is like Fort Knox…” He heard Clint mutter as he punched in the pass code.  The retina scanner appeared above the finger print scanner.  In reality any of the members of their team could get in and they all had that ability, though none of them took advantage of that.  The lights blinked green, and the door slid open. 

He gestured to a seat off to the side of the lab.  “There’s coffee in the pot if you want some,” he said in a hushed, strained voice.  Dear god was he honestly about to try and console one of the team members? 

The small couch let out a sigh as the agent sank down on it.  “No I’m fine…don’t like caffeine, it interferes with my concentration.”

The silence between them returned as Bruce went about fixing himself a cup, needing the caffeine, needing to be as awake as physically possible if he was actually about to try and relate personally to someone else.  “You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah…”  Bruce could tell Clint was moving around the lab, his footsteps soft on the tile floor.  “Look Banner you’re the only other person I know.  Well no that’s not true, but you’re the only other person I know who understands what it’s like, and the only other person who I can actually talk to.”

“Why’s that?”

“Why’s what?” Clint asked, picking a beaker up off the counter and looking into it. 

Bruce plucked it from his fingers.  “Why am I the only one that you can talk to?”

“Because I know you would understand, and that you would never tell anyone else.”  That much was at least true, he would never break a person’s confidence.  But he said nothing; he stayed silent pretending to examine a printout from the computer.  “I don’t, honestly I’m not sure where to begin…other than not being in control of my own mind frightened me.”

He glanced up at the archer over the rim of his glasses, studying him, as the man moved about the lab seeming to examine everything.  “I knew exactly what I was doing and Loki made it feel like it was the right thing to do, which just sickens me, keeps me up at night.  How could I have done such things?  How could I have killed people I knew and not tried to fight?”

“Maybe you did Clint.”  Clint glanced up at Bruce staring at him, fingers running along the edge of the lab desk.  “You probably did try to fight, but do not forget that you were fighting the power of a demi-god.  Loki’s power, his abilities knew no bounds…he manipulated me from inside a glass box to the point where the other guy came out and I nearly destroyed everything.”

Clint was watching Bruce, watching as the doctor moved about trying to distract himself.  “Do you remember any of it?  Anything?”

Bruce shook his head.  “No I do not, just that the other guy wants me alive.  I’ve tried to end it, he does seem to quite like that…” He let his voice trail off, a frown on his lips.  The sound of Clint once again touching something brought him back to reality.  “It is the memories of what you’ve done that keep you up?”  Clint nodded.  “How often?”

“Every night, tonight was just the first night that I could not bring myself to stay in my room.  Normally I can fall back asleep easily but…this time…”

“What were you dreaming?”  Bruce asked moving to the other side of the lab bench, leaning back against it.  “Something…different?”

“The fight I had with Tasha, right before I was knocked out.”  He folded his arms across his chest, eyes on the ground.  “I wanted to kill her.  I honestly did and I know if she had not knocked me out I would have succeeded.”

“You care about her?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking Banner.  She’s my teammate, my friend and that is it.  How would you feel if you hurt one of the others?”

“I have.” 

The silence returned.

“Who?” Clint asked after a few moments.

“Miss Romanoff.  After the helicarrier was attacked and the two of us fell to the deck below, I changed and nearly killed her.  If it hadn’t been for Thor.”  A small, hint of a grin appeared on Bruce’s lips.  “The big guy doesn’t like him.  Apparently I punched him during the fight with Loki’s army.”

“Thor’s…an acquired taste.”

Bruce brought his mug of coffee he nearly forgotten about to his lips a soft chuckle falling off his lips.  “You speak of him as if he is some strange foreign food.”

“Well he’s certainly not from around here.”

He nodded, still smiling slightly.  The tension he had been feeling about trying to talk with someone on the team on a more personal level had started to ebb away, allowing him back into his comfortable state where he did not have to worry about anything.  “Back to the topic at hand, what have you done in the past to help you sleep or fall back asleep?”

“Drink.  Stare at the ceiling.  Pray.”  Clint shrugged his shoulders moving to sit back down on the small couch in the room.  “I dunno I just was always able to fall back asleep till tonight.”

The man sounded tired to Bruce’s ears, the same feeling was reflected in his eyes.  Clint just looked exhausted, a shadow of the man he normally saw walking about the halls of the tower.  “Do you feel up for at least trying to go back to bed?” Bruce asked, his head tilted to the side, watching him.

“I can try, I don’t expect anything to come from it though.”  Clint stood back up, shoving his hands into his pockets.  There was a moment’s hesitation before the archer looked at him.  “You’ll come with me, right?”

He was taken aback by that, confused as to why exactly Clint would want him there, but decided that since he had made such strides to be closer to the man before him, he might as well act the way he figured would be appropriate.  If he was to turn Clint down, Bruce wasn’t sure how that would affect this strange new relationship they had.  Though friendship was probably the correct term.  “Of course,” he replied, setting his empty mug down.  “Lead the way Agent Barton.”

“Call me Clint.”

“Only if you call me Bruce.”

That got Clint to chuckle as they made their way out of the lab.  “You have yourself a deal Bruce.”

The conversation they had on the way back towards Clint’s quarters consisted of them simply asking each other basic questions, the heart of them being why Bruce was such a recluse.  By the time they were there, Bruce was certain that Clint knew more about him than anyone else on the team did except for perhaps Stark. 

“Must be hard,” Clint commented as he unlocked the door and headed into his room.

“What must be?” 

The agent shrugged his shoulders, pulling back the blanket on his bed.  “Feeling the need to be alone and cut off from everyone.”

“I suppose, but I’m just used to it now I guess.”  Bruce moved a chair closer to the bed, taking a seat and attempting to find a comfortable position since he figured he’d be there for a while, at the very least till Clint was asleep.

He watched as Clint tried to get comfortable in his bed, tossing and turning before finally settling in a position where he was facing Bruce.  “You’ll stay right?”

If being there, staying there was what it took to get the man to sleep; he would do that, for his friend.  “I’ll stay.”

Clint gave him a small, thankful smile, before he closed his eyes.  The minutes passed and after seeing Clint toss and turn for the majority of it there was a change in his form.  As Bruce watched he could pinpoint the moment where Clint fell asleep, his body relaxed, his breathing slowed, and his entire form seemed to grow still. 

Bruce continued to watch him just letting his eyes linger on his companion’s sleeping form, feeling his eyes start to grow heavy with each tick of the flock.   He told Clint he’d stay there with him, but he was so absolutely tired, he was not entirely sure how long he’d be able to stay awake himself.  His mind and body were calm despite the cup of coffee he had earlier, betraying just how tired he was.

Perhaps he could just close his eyes for a minute; perhaps he could relax there with someone else in the room.  Certainly for the time being he could afford a bit of sleep.

* * *

The minutes turned to hours, the hours to days, and the days to weeks.  Things had settled into a comfortable nightly routine for Bruce and Clint.  Each night they would meet up in the one place where they would know if someone was coming, the lab, and talk for hours till they each felt tired enough to sleep. They would bid each other goodnight, and return to their respective rooms to sleep. 

At first, Bruce would sit by Clint’s bed till he was asleep, but then the day come when Clint told him he no longer had to do that.  Bruce was unsure of whether or not he should listen to the man’s opinion, but in the end he did.  He didn’t want to lose the one good friend he had on the team.  It helped Bruce to stay calm, knowing that he had someone to confide in, someone who would keep his secrets, since he kept Clint’s. 

But when it came to the rest of the team he still kept his distance, keeping everyone but the archer at arm’s length.  It allowed him to observe the team, help develop more techniques and weapons for them, wanting to help in the small way that he could besides being Clint’s confidant, and the Hulk. 

The only other member of the team he spent any time with was Tony Stark, since he did share a lab space with him.  Even then they would spend about an hour in silence when they would first start work and by lunch they would be talking.  Of course they were talking about their work, nothing personal unless Tony was trying to get him to be more willing to let the big guy out.

And then there was Agent Clint Barton, the person with whom he was closest to.  The problem with that was Clint seemed completely determined to try and get him to be a part of the team.  Clint would always invite him to join the team for training, dinner, you name it he tried it.  But to no avail, Bruce never accepted.  That did not stop Clint; he had taken up a new tactic to get him involved.  The man’s favorite method of doing so seemed to be cornering him at meals, particularly breakfast. 

“Good morning Dr. Banner.”

It occurred on a daily basis, when he least expected it, and sometimes he was lucky enough to sneak away.

“Morning Bruce, what’s for breakfast?”  That morning he was not so lucky.

He had to physically stop himself from choking on his coffee as he heard the familiar voices of Clint and Steve Rogers, probably back from their morning run.  “Nothing.  Today is ‘make your own food’ day in the kitchen,” Bruce replied going back to picking at what was left of his toast and eggs.  Eventually he gave up on the cold leftovers and turned back to his mug of decaf coffee.

From over the rim of his mug he watched the two of them get various things out for breakfast.  It was no surprise that both of them gathered what he considered to be high protein foods, since more than likely they’d be off in the training room right after to continue with their work out.

“Are you going to join us today doctor?” Steve asked sitting down at the table with his breakfast.

“For the thousandth time Steve call me by my name or I’ll continue to call you Captain Rogers.”  That got a smile on Steve’s face and a snort of laughter from Clint.  “No real sense in it though is there?  Since when I’m off helping you all save the world I’m more…green.”

“Which is why you should join us.”  How Clint could possibly be that wide-awake was beyond Bruce.  “We can at least teach you basic fighting skills right Rogers?”  Steve nodded as Clint shoved a bowl full of granola at Bruce.  “So eat up Dr. Banner.”

“I do not need to eat more Clint, my breakfast is perfectly fine.”

“Not if you plan on training today.”

“Maybe I’m planning on working in the lab.”

“Alone?  Oh come on Bruce, Stark won’t be back for a while and Tasha’s off on an assignment for Fury.  Join us, it’ll be fun.”

“Fun you say, pain I say.”

The sudden burst of laughter from Steve brought them both out of the small little world they had been arguing in.  “You two bicker like…what’s the saying ‘an old married couple,’ did you know that?”

Bruce said nothing, the faintest of color burning on his cheeks as he took another swig of his coffee, pushing the bowl of granola back across the table.  “You eat it.  I’m fine,” he muttered at Clint.

“Well if you insist,” the archer said smirking in his direction.  “And only if you agree to let us teach you a thing or two.”

“He’s right you know, it wouldn’t be a bad thing if you learned some basics,” Steve added in looking curiously between the two of them.  “You spend most of your time in the lab, what could it hurt?”

“My arms, my legs, my back…” Bruce listed off only to earn a laugh from both of them.  “Look I’m not made for fighting and the only reason I really am on the team is because of the other guy.  I’ll leave the training to you two.”  He stood up putting his dishes in the sink.  “See you both later.”

Apparently later was all of thirty minutes later when Clint made his way into the lab. 

“You’re not letting this go are you?” Bruce asked looking at him over the rim of his glasses. 

“Course I’m not.  It’ll be good for you.”  As Clint spoke, Bruce pushed his chair across the room to another computer, ignoring him.  “And you don’t exactly have a say.” 

“Clint wha-” The fragmented sentence was all he could get out before he found himself (or rather the chair he was in) being pulled out of the lab by Clint.

If the chair had not had wheels, it would have made his kidnapping much more difficult, but Bruce had enough sense to realize that even if he bolted right then and there, Clint would simply go and find him yet again.  “Why are you doing this?” he asked from his spot, arms folded over his chest, sounding very much like an annoyed child.

“You’re my friend, and if you were caught in this form and for some reason the big guy wasn’t able to make an appearance, I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“You’re assuming I actually go outside on a regular basis.”

“You’re being a pain in the ass you realize.”

“I’m a scientist not a fighter,” Bruce said in protest, trying to determine if he could make it back to the lab and lock the door before Clint would be able to catch up.

“Fine don’t practice, but you’re watching Steve and I and you can learn through osmosis.”  Clint paused.  “Yeah osmosis that’s the right word.”

“I still do not see the point,” Bruce muttered.

The chair spun around so violently it nearly sent him flying out of it.  He was pinned, Clint’s hands on either side of his shoulders, gripping the back of the chair, face to face with the other man.  “You are the most brilliant man I have met yet you can’t seem to grasp the logic of why I want you to be able to defend yourself.”  Bruce struggled to keep his heart rate under control, his gaze locked with Clint’s.  He was so close…  “I care enough about you that the thought of you being hurt makes my stomach churn.  And I can’t stand the thought that…that the person who I’ve become closer to in the past couple of weeks is the most vulnerable of us…” Clint pulled back shaking his head as he ran his hand through his hair.  “At least, do it for me.”

His eyes were closed, thankful for the sudden space between them, finding it easier to get control of his body and mind.  “For you then, I’ll watch.  Maybe participate.”

“That’s all I ask.”  Clint held out his hand to Bruce.  “So come on the doc.  Let’s go.”

Bruce took his hand, letting Clint pull him to his feet.  “We shouldn’t leave the chair in the hallway.”

“Oh someone else will get it, don’t you worry.  Oh and you’re not talking your way out of this one so don’t try,” Clint said, heading into the training area. 

Bruce was beyond wary of training with Steve and Clint, the thought of doing something that could get his heart rate just to the point where the other guy could take over was frightening, and he honestly hoped that if he said he had to stop they’d listen to him.  He wasn’t crazy, not at all.  He did not want to put either of them at risk.  Not without Thor being there, since the only one who ever held his own against the Hulk was Thor.  Even then Hulk had generally come out on top.  Oh he was nervous, close to panicking, and it was not at all the ideal situation for him to be in.

As he went about copying the stretches Clint and Steve were doing, he tried his very best to maintain control of his heartbeat, focusing on staying calm.  He had to find that one place again, that special place where he could be certain the others would be safe. 

Just in case.

But everything went smoothly, all he had to do was copy the poses Steve was doing, under the watchful eye of Clint who would correct him if something was not quite right.  That was the part that made him completely fearful, being that close to Clint when he was already on edge, worried, and letting him physically correct his stance.  Nothing happened, his heart raced but not with anxiety, something else, something that nearly caused the heat to rise to his cheeks.

“See?  It’s not that hard is it?” When the hell had he gotten so close?  Bruce was struggling to keep focus as Clint once again fixed his stance. 

“I feel completely useless at this, you have to correct me every time,” Bruce muttered under his breath, going back into a relaxed stance and looking a Clint.  He watched the archer slip into a completely natural stance, one hand resting on his hip, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, a smirk on his lips.  “You’re going to make me do this every single morning aren’t you?”

“For someone so smart you certainly ask a lot of obvious questions,” Clint pointed out grabbing a bottle of water from the floor and tossing it to him.  “You’ll get better at this sort of thing with time Bruce.  This is after all your first day.  And besides you’re not as terrible as I thought you were.”

He rolled his eyes and took a drink from the bottle.  “I think you managed to insult me and compliment me all in the same sentence.”

“Why I think I did didn’t I?” 

Bruce was about to reply, only to be interrupted by the door opening to reveal the Iron Man himself walking into the room.  “You two have to tell me what your secret is, you got Banner out of the lab.  Been trying to do that myself for weeks, but guess I’m just not his type.  Means one of you two is, or there’s someone else on his mind.” 

“Least he’s here rather then hiding in the lab,” Clint replied, rolling his eyes as he placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

Before Tony could respond, Steve pushed past him muttering something under his breath that seemed to startle him enough to cause him to follow Steve out of the room.  They were arguing, Bruce could hear it.  It was about him. 

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and moved away towards the door.

“You should ignore him you know,” Clint said hurrying after Bruce.  “Just cause he’s a genius doesn’t mean he knows what he’s talking about.  You’re here and that is what counts.”

“Or maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought,” Bruce said, making a point in trying to shut the door before Clint could follow him out.

It didn’t work.

“Will I still see you tonight?  Same time?”  There was hopefulness in Clint’s voice that made Bruce’s stomach turn to butterflies.

“I suppose so…” In reality, he honestly did not think he could handle much else that day. 

“See you then doc.”  Bruce could see the doubt in Clint’s eyes; he didn’t believe what Bruce had said any more than he did.

Bruce did not show up.  He spent the remainder of the day locked away in his room, staring out the window, just watching the day turn to night.  He wasn’t sulking, but he had gotten way to riled up earlier in the day for his own comfort.  It startled him to the point where the only safe and logical thing he thought he could do was hide away from the world.  At first, he had gone back to the lab to do work, yet the second he saw Tony Stark his pulse skyrocketed and he had to get away.  Apparently he wasn’t safe to be around that day.

If it wasn’t for the other guy perhaps he could at least be a normal human being with a normal life.  Though…if it hadn’t been for the big guy he probably would not have met any of the others on the team.  And it was his own damn fault that he even existed.

“Knock, knock.”  Bruce looked towards the door to see Clint leaning against the doorframe.  “You never showed, got worried and came to find you.”

“Lost track of time.”

“Yeah I can see that, you’ve been in here since before lunch.”  Clint moved and sat down beside him on the bed.  “Okay, what’s up doc?  You haven’t acted like this in weeks.  I thought we were doing okay with you and you not being so solitary all the time.”

“Stark-”

“-Is the world’s biggest idiot for someone as smart as he is yet you two are friends and lab partners.  God he did get to you didn’t he?  Did he say something after?  Do I gotta go kick his ass?”

Bruce smiled and shook his head.  “No.  But thanks.  Just realized how slack I’ve been with maintaining control.  Around you…around you I can be myself the way I was before the accident and the big gu-”

“Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself.”

“Don’t interrupt.”

“Sorry, continue.”

“I can relax around you and sometimes the others but, after Tony said what he did I went back to the lab and instantly realized that I had to get out of there or the bi-” Clint gave him a look.  “Hulk would get lose and reek havoc on the lab and anyone who would get in his way.  If I didn’t have to be constantly worried about the Hulk then I would be able to get so much more work done.  I’d be able to live without fear.”

Clint was staring at him, his gaze focused, a look that he had only seen when Clint was practicing archery.

 “What?”  Bruce asked, looking at him with mild confusion in his eyes.

“I’d bet my skills as an archer that you think you’re absolutely insane.  You wish they’d lock you up in an asylum and throw away the key don’t you?”  Silence.  “I knew it.  That’s what this is about.  You’re afraid of your own mind that you can’t control it.”

“You’re afraid of yours after how easily Loki took control of you,” Bruce pointed out.

“That is not the point.  We’re talking about you now not me.  You’ve helped me, let me return the favor.”

“Well…”

“Please.  What have you got to lose?”

“My sanity?”

“But you’re not insane you know,” Clint said sitting with his legs crossed beneath him on the bed.  “You’re not crazy or anything like that.  You’re different.  You’re strong and powerful.  Yeah, you may not have gotten that way as Tasha and I have but that doesn’t make you any less apart of this team.”

“And the point you’re trying to make is?”

“You’re like the Captain.  Enhancement through science, which gives you the ability to help save people Bruce.  Surely you can see that.”

“I can…”

“Then why do I sense a but coming?”  Clint tilted his head to the side giving him the appearance of a curious puppy.

Bruce shrugged his shoulders.  “I’ve been hiding for so long, I find it strange being close to people now.”

“Then we’ll start slow before moving to getting you completely involved with the team.”  Clint smiled at him.  “I’ll help you.  Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Great now come on,” Clint said jumping off of the bed and holding out his hand.  “We’re going out.”

“We are?”

“Yeah and you don’t have a say in this.  We’re going out to a place I know will be filled with people so I can prove to you that you are not a psychotic lean green smashing machine.”  There was a smile on his lips that Bruce was certain could light up the night sky. 

Bruce frowned slightly eyeing Clint’s hand cautiously.  “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Nothing will go wrong Bruce.  Just trust me.”  He nodded towards the door, hand still outstretched.  “Come on.”

“If I say no you’re just going to drag me aren’t you?”  Clint smirked at him.  “Such an easy choice then.”  Bruce placed his hand in Clint’s again and let him pull him to his feet.  “Lead the way Agent Barton.”

“It’d be my pleasure Dr. Banner.”

* * *

They made their way down the streets of New York, walking side by side.  Bruce had no idea where they were going, none whatsoever but as the scenery started to change, he only became more and more suspicious of where Clint was leading him.  Though as they walked he noticed different things, things indicative of one place in particular.  “You’re taking me to college?”

“No, but I’m taking you to a place near the campus.”  Clint glanced at Bruce.  “Still sure that it was the right choice to go with me?”

“No, but it was an offer that was certainly hard to refuse.”  The aroma of coffee filled his nose and he turned his gaze towards Clint.  “A coffee house?  This late?”

Clint nodded, placing his arm around Bruce’s shoulder.  “Bruce you are about to see the place where college students and geeks hang out late at night.  ‘It’s a Frap’ coffee house.” 

“Clint is this your way of admitting you’re a geek?”  Bruce raised and eyebrow at him, smiling slightly as the archer pushed open the door.

“You caught me.”           

He held the door open, the smell of coffee wafting through the open door.  From inside Bruce could hear the sounds of people chatting, and the soft clink of glasses.  He glanced towards Clint a slight frown on his lips, nervously pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Come on Banner.”  Clint said giving him an encouraging smile.  “What have you got to lose?”

There was that question again, what had he got to lose?  It was just an outing with a friend; there was nothing dangerous about it.  Bruce had no reason to feel so nervous.  He was fine, nothing bad would happen there.  So the answer was simple.  He had nothing to lose.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to know what you think. Leave a comment and let me know!


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